Dear John

I spent many long days in the casting office, finding replacement Jews for the shtetl of Fiddler on the Roof and drunks, punks and queens for a revival of Threepenny Opera. Variety is the spice of life. I was miserable in the office. I'm miserable, as a rule, in most any office. The Big Man paid no attention to Fiddler, which was fine, except when he was needed to make a decision or show up at an important final callback. One day I was so overwhelmed I had to ask him to go to a director's callback in my place and he actually bristled. Mind you, this was a show he was receiving a substantial maintenance check on every week.

I did, one day, manage to arrange to have Sandra Bernhard audition for the Golde replacement. It took me weeks to track her down through her manager. Apparently, she moves around constantly. But, with Harvey Fierstein on as Tevye why not have a lesbian Golde. Plus, I just wanted to meet her and be in a room with her. Sandra was actually very excited about the audition and when she showed up at the rehearsal studio to meet with the director, producer and musical director I could see how nervous she was. As is the case when you're auditioning a star of a certain caliber you have to assure them that this is a closed audition and only the necessary parties will be there. I had provided Sandra with two scenes and the music to Do You Love Me?. She came prepared.

Sandra's dry humor and off-beat tone added many new laughs to the book but somehow felt a little too contemporary for the world of the play. The director worked with her though and she got better and stronger with each take. And then she sang and although some people may not be fans, I love her voice. It's raw.

She did not get the part. It went to another lesbian comedienne, Rosie O'Donnell. I had nothing to do with that decision. But found Rosie quite moving in the role. She and Harvey brought a warmth to the production that had been lacking with the original cast. And a lot more humor. And upped the gay quotient.

Meanwhile in Threepenny Opera land I had managed to convince Cyndi Lauper to meet with the director for the role of Jenny. I can't talk enough about my love for her. Ever since she sang 'Goonies 'R Good Enough' I was in love. And although Madonna had skyrocketed past her, Cyndi is the better singer, musician and songwriter. Her album "A Hat Full of Stars" got me through high school, especially the song 'Dear John' which, in my mind, had been written just for me. What? You don't know it?

Dear John
What's wrong ?
Why can't you just be anything you want ? Why not ? Why not ?
I tried to tell you then. You didn't understand. T
hey try and pigeonhole you.
Buddy, they don't even know you.
But hang on my dear, dear, John.
Maybe you're not just like everyone, so what, so what.

And there's more to live for, than some abbreviated encore,
much more, much more.
You can't define yourself in terms of someone else.
You can't say what you're thinking ? But I don't know what you've been drinking.
But don't cry. 'Cause life goes on.
Dear John, you could be anything you want. Why not ? Why not ?
Why you could even be an astronaut, dear John, dear John.

This album and Rites of Passage (Indigo Girls) still bring up a well of feelings in me when I hear them.

So, after weeks of calls, Cyndi was coming to meet the director. This was not my first time meeting her. I had had a drink with her when we were briefly casting the John Doyle, play-your-own-instrument-and-stare-blankly-out-at-the-audience-as-you-recite-your-lines-in-a-detached-manner revival of Sweeney Todd. But we (Roundabout) were none-too-subtly let go from that project and it was given a commercial production. Anyhow, I had a drink with her, the Big Man and Doyle one night at the Regency. When asked what instrument she played Lauper said, "The dulcimer." Yeah, of course. Why not? The role went to Patti LuPone and the rest of the cast was almost all people that we had found. We got no credit. Upsetting. Show business.

So. There I am at the stage door of The New Group waiting for Cyndi Lauper to bring her to the director. She's 5, 10, 15 minutes late. Finally, half an hour later a car pulls up. Her LA Ken-looking manager gets out and flashes me a too-white smile and puts his hand out to help Cyndi out of the car. My phone rings. It's the Big Man. He's been calling every two minutes to see what's going on and why she isn't there yet, even though he's still in his pajamas in his apartment on the UWS and it's noon. I put the call into voicemail. I introduce myself to Cyndi, hoping for a flash of recognition but nothing. "You danced on my table at Joe's Pub" I want to scream out, but I hold back. I lead her down a very confusing series of backstage hallways until we find the elevator that will bring us up to the director's office. In the elevator I keep wanting to say, "Tell her about high school. Tell her about Dear John. Tell her. Tell her. Tell her." But I look over at her and, like Sandra Bernhard, she's a performer looking for a job and her thoughts are elsewhere. I swallow my voice, the elevator doors open and I introduce her to the director and disappear.

This part of the job I loved and hated. I grew out of being star struck early on in my career. I enjoyed seeing the humanity and vulnerability of famous people. It puts you all on the same level. But to them, I was just a lackey. No matter that I had spent weeks trying to make all of this happen. I was a nobody. Theirs eyes were on the prize. So be it.

But I was restless. I felt trapped. I was tired of doing all the work and someone else getting all the credit. Honestly, it wasn't even the credit I wanted it was the money. I was tired of doing so much work and living hand-to-mouth. No amount of gifted dvds or books that Big Man presented us with on a regular basis as gifts could pay the rent, the credit cards or the utilities. I also still didn't like casting. I resented letting go of a project just as all the pieces came together. And I resented even more directors fucking up all the work I had done by turning in a mediocre, uninspired production.

Why couldn't I be anything I wanted?

Fiddler closed and Threepenny was close to being cast. The Big Man was having a nervous breakdown about finances. He didn't have as much work lined up for the coming season to support his expanding staff. I quickly sent a text to the Producer to ask if she could take me back. I needed to get out of casting, once and for all, for my own sanity. She immediately responded yes. I told Big Man that I could leave and he immediately assented. As much as he cared about me, he cared about his finances even more. There wasn't much going on with the Producer but at least I could finally maybe get my thesis paper written and get my MFA, especially since I was already repaying student loans.

So I said 'goodbye' to Sandra. Goodbye to Cyndi. And, I thought, goodbye to casting.

I left the office that night and headed down to Union Square to meet the Mormon and it was as if I was flying. I was so happy. A giant weight had been lifted and I was off to bigger and better things. The Mormon was standing in our usual meeting spot when I got there, the statue of George Washington on the south side. I told him the news and he picked me up in a giant bear hug and spun me around. I laughed and laughed. Everything was coming together.